


Liquid Courage

by Bullpen_Antics



Category: Pitch (TV 2016)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-08
Updated: 2017-10-08
Packaged: 2019-01-10 12:06:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12298911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bullpen_Antics/pseuds/Bullpen_Antics
Summary: A snapshot of an unresolved issue.





	Liquid Courage

As a little girl, you dream of your fairytale. The prince that might sweep you away, the popular guy who takes you to homecoming, the one person you hope notices your new jeans or lipgloss... your favorite player on your favorite team spots you in the crowd...

A thousand times over Ginny had imagined what it would be like to meet Mike Lawson. To meet her fairy tale. He was strong, hardworking, cocky, and beautiful. She'd spent hours memorizing every bronze fleck in his hazel eyes and could tell when his knees were shot from mulling over hours of Padres film. His poster hung above her bed and his rookie card rested against her heart on dark days.

Ginny would replay the hypothetical meeting in her mind incessantly. Would it be during a game? A meet and greet? Would she stay calm or fangirl like it's her job.

The day she stepped out on the field at Petco she shocked herself. She did a little bit of both.

Mike was everything she expected. He oozed confidence and the tell tale signs of aging had crept up on him like a thief in the night. But it changed nothing. It was Mike Lawson. The Mike Lawson. Her Mike Lawson. And no age nor a bristly exterior could ruin that.

With time, to Ginny's dismay, reality seemingly killed the expectation. Young Ginny could have Mike Lawson in her dreams all she wanted.

Real Ginny had to witness Amelia swimming in a crew neck sweater drenched in a scent that typically threw her mind, body, and soul into overdrive.

Her heart tumbled into its own little personal hell that day. Yes, it was completely reasonable for the very real and very single Mike Lawson to date women. But first hand knowledge of whom he had elected to spend his time with cut deep. Her life had been riddled with adversity and wrapped in pain and somehow, the MLB, blind to her brokenness, plucked her out and delivered the dream and simultaneously crushed the fairytale.

The robot in cleats reprogrammed, stowed away her fragile heart, and kept performing, attempting and often failing to ignore the heat behind each glance,the length of each touch, and the obvious missing dialogue in every conversation. So many times Ginny wished she could free what she was truly feeling, come hell or more hell. So many times she wished Mike would just say whatever he was really thinking.

Game after game, practice after practice, the wound in her heart mended and light awkward conversation returned.

Mike had attempted to right the wrong of Amelia and remove the pain that he had inflicted by being a disaster.

Ginny was forgiving for no other reason than to focus on the game.  

Then one random evening, Ginny got drunk.

The team was running high on a six game winning streak.

Deliriously happy with liquid fire in her belly, Ginny indulged.

Ginny felt Mike watching from a distance and knew when he couldn't take it anymore because he took it upon himself to cut her off. She could tell he was shocked by her compliance, but drunk Ginny wasn't as strong willed as sober Ginny.

He'd said his goodbyes for them and she could see that her teammates were getting a kick out of Mike escorting her out the back entrance.

Mike's grip on her waist and firm guiding set her skin ablaze. Lifting her into his truck as if it were nothing made her head spin and body react instantly.  Ginny laughed to herself, keenly aware that she looked crazy... and wasted.

The journey to the hotel room was a blur, but Mike unzipping Ginny's jacket and taking off her Chucks was clear and vivid. He rose slowly, only wincing once on his ascent.

He'd asked her if she was okay, and she didn't hear him the first time or the second time. Her eyes were trained on his lips and she saw color tint his cheeks after discovering that fact.

"Why did you choose her?" Ginny asked.

"What are you talking about Baker?"

"Baker.. hmph..." Ginny said feeling slighted at the formality of the man who just partially undressed her for bed.

"Amelia, why did you choose Amelia?" Ginny asked, still not sober enough to regret it.

"You're drunk Ginny."

"And you just avoided my question."

"You won't remember my answer anyway, let's get you to bed..." Mike attempted before Ginny interrupted.

"Try me."

"Why?"

"I want to know."

"It wasn't what you think it was, it was just..."

"You chose her," Ginny said above a whisper.

"You keep saying that Gin as if there was another choice when that all went down!"

Ginny bit her lip... the robot was telling her to drink water, take two Aleve, and say goodnight, maybe thank you. But Jose Cuervo told her, "fuck it".

"Me. You could've chose me."

"You're drunk."

"And you're not interested, got it," Ginny said stepping out of Mike's space, looking for the off button to stop the floor from spinning.

She felt Mike starring a hole in her back as she turned, finding the water and Aleve as he stood there motionless.

"I'm going to go."

"You do that," Ginny quipped back.

Mike strode over to the sink and turned Ginny by her wrist.

"You sure you're okay?" he asked with weary eyes.

"All good Cap."

Ginny saw Mike's jaw clench at her response. He came closer and didn't release her wrist. His hands slid over her hands, up her arms and found stillness on her neck.. The rough pads of his fingertips splayed out across the top of her traps until he drug his right thumb across her pink lips.

Ginny stifled the moan in her throat and felt the gaze of the figure that hovered above her wash over her lips.

He bent forward and rested his forehead on hers and whispered, "Get some rest and if you're up to it, tomorrow we'll talk. It's not enough, but I'm sorry Ginny."

*

Sleep was difficult for Ginny that night.

When she got up, moments from the night before came flooding into her mind right along with the sunlight into her hotel room.

Jose, she decided was an asshole. He had charmed her out of her senses and hijacked her filter.

Mike and the boys were already down for breakfast when she arrived. The only seat open was across from the man she had scolded for not choosing her in her drunkenness.

Ginny sat down with her bacon and ignored the odd looks from her teammates. Her hair was down, which for whatever reason was still shocking when she looked somewhat feminine on a game day.

"How'd you sleep?" Mike asked, the rest of the team engrossed in conversation.

"Better if I'd said no the the third shot of sweet and sour nonsense that was getting passed around, but you knew that already didn't you," Ginny said feeling like she was barely winning the battle against her hangover. "How'd you sleep?"

"Fine." Mike ground out. Worry and apprehension written on his face.

Her fork stilled.

Ginny needed to rip the band-aid off. Jose would've said "fuck the band-aid", but Jose wasn't here, Ginny was.

"I'm sorry about that... by the way," Ginny said, somewhere between embarrassed and confused. "Last night."

"Which part?" Mike asked.

"The drunken bumbling ranting part," Ginny said gulping down a small glass of orange juice.

"It happens to the best of us rook," Mike began watching most of the team clear out.

"Not you."

"Not even close to true."

"I've never seen you that out of control."

"You have."

Ginny quirked an eyebrow.

"The night the team went dancing... I watched you guys look like idiots and left.."

 _With Amelia_ , Ginny mentally noted.

"The night outside of Boardners..."

Ginny could sense he was trying to make a point, but it felt too much like sober rejection.

"Boardners..." Ginny scoffed and got up from her chair.

"See you out there," Ginny said before throwing her linen napkin down on the table.

Ginny heard the door close in her makeshift dressing closet.

"There is such a thing as knocking," Ginny said readying her gear.

"I don't regret those moments with you Gin."

"You sure about that?" Ginny asked.

"I regret the fucked up decisions I made to avoid falling for y..."

Mike paused when Ginny turned around. His Rookie was hurt and he had done that. Everything inside of him told him to keep his hands to himself, but he didn't. He came to her and fell into those pools of brown wishing away this heap of shit he caused.

Mike spoke softly.

"I could prepare for a hard day with press, one of Stubbs rendezvous leaking again, but never in a million years could I have prepared for you," Mike said, his hands lost in her canopy of curls.

_Choose me._

The words danced in her mind with each passing breath.  

"Everything I've touched is broken Ginny," Mike said into Ginny's hairline, her hands clutching his sides.

"I would never sacrifice your dreams for mine."

"My dreams don't exist without you, they never have, they never will," Ginny explained in her quiet rasp.

"You've thought about this?" Mike asked, his finger tips gingerly kneading into the base of Ginny's scalp.

"Have you?" Ginny asked peering up at him.

"I almost went to Chicago Gin."

The knock on the door caused an instant separation.

"I'm coming," Ginny yelled, her eyes refocusing on Mike combing his fingers through his hair.

Ginny grabbed her jacket and made two strides before Mike pulled her back to face him.

"If you'll have me Gin," Mike said bringing his hands to her cheeks.

She licked her lips in anticipation of what followed. His lips crashed into hers with desperation and hunger as his tongue eased in and massaged hers.

The second bang at the door broke the moment. Ginny felt Mike's hands slide down her body, his gaze fixed on her slightly swollen lips.

"We should go," Mike said in a gravelly unfamiliar tone, attempting to smooth out his uniform.

"Pick it up later?" Mike asked.

Ginny looked back from the door, her smile bracketed by dimples.

She gave him a curt nod and strode out the door. Mindful of the "if you'll have me," loop cycling on replay in her mind now... and forever she supposed.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I swear I didn't know I was on the angst train until it was too late. 
> 
> Let me know what you think, and thank you for reading.


End file.
